Keep Rehearsing and Keep Performing

The audition apparently went well, they celebrated on the Friday night with a bottle of wine. Then Grant dropped an almost dejected, and an equally very hungover Rachel at the train station. He loyally stood there his arm around her shoulders as she hurriedly smoked her cigarette in almost record time. She was almost late for her train. With a passionate kiss and promise to talk every night. She headed off dragging her suitcase through the train station door to the ticket office.

Act 1 Scene 3

Grant now had a week alone at home without Rachel. It had been just under three months since she moved in. The house was quiet. He took the opportunity to go through the house and tidy it. Move all the magazines that she bought briefly read and then messily scattered on the coffee table. He pushed them into a neat pile.

She had left the ashtray on the coffee table full of her butts. They had shared a couple of bottles of wine the night before. Even Grant had smoked a couple of cigarettes with a whiskey. Both of them were nervous, almost scared how the following week was going to go for her. It was excusable. He picked up the ashtray and took it to the kitchen and dumped the contents in the bin. He could not help screwing his face up as he coughed as a couple of days' worth of cold ash billowed out as the butts fell in.

He wiped down the counter from the spillage smiling whilst tutting to himself. He then retrieved the two wine glasses and the two empty bottles of wine. Placing them in the dishwasher and the recycling bucket respectively. The house was quiet. It was Saturday morning. Rachel was not flumped out on the sofa in just a baggy t shirt showing most of her legs or often if her legs were positioned such that she teasingly displayed her pubic area to him as she read a book or script whilst casually smoking a cigarette. This morning the sofa was very empty. There was no lingering cigarette smoke. The house was peaceful. There was no tension no drama.

It had only been an hour since he waved off Rachel and his phone beeped. She had sent a WhatsApp picture of her open pack on the top of her bag. "Bored already...can't smoke, want to smoke ☹ X"

"Be positive, you can do this only a couple of hours to go xxx" Grant replied. Tutting at the screen.

"I guess so. Will read another script xxx" she replied.

"Have fun! Xxx" Grant chuckled as he made himself a coffee, and then carried on straightening the house. Rachel was amazing, but rather messy. You could draw a line down the middle of his bedroom. Her side of the bedroom was a cartoonesq style of a teenager's room. There were both clean and worn clothes scattered on the floor and more clothes piled up on the chair in the corner. There were bottles of lotions and potions on the windowsill. On the floor was a large what looked like a silver toolbox, covered in pink stickers that was full of makeup. The contents of which had spread from the box and into the bathroom. Some of the contents were for class others for going out.

Her side of the room was full of moisturizers, cleaners, and mountains of cotton wool. A stack of fresh sanitary towel packs scattered on the floor. Grant was always surprised why she could not use the drawers in the bedside unit for things like that was beyond her. However, what made him happy was that on the bedside table in almost pride of place was Penny's ashtray with a dozen or more of Rachel's recently squished Pall Mall butts in it.

Grant contemplated tidying up some of the room up but put his hands on his hips. He shook his head and refused. He was not her dad, but her partner.

He did pick up some of her clothes that had been thrown and discarded vaguely in the direction of the wicker basket that was in the corner of the room. He and Penny had bought it to hide dirty laundry. He smiled as he brought her knitted jumper to his nose. It reeked of the thick potent smell of her delicious cigarette smoke. It also had an underlying hint of her sweat and body spray. It very much smelt of her.

His phone beeped again he dug it out of his pocket stared at the screen and tutted and chuckled. "I wannnnnnnnaaaaa. I wannnnnnna smmmmmokeeeeee nowwwwww xxxx ☹"

"Walk and find the buffet carriage. Have another coffee, your nearly there now! xxx"

"But I wannnnnnnnnnnnnnna smoke like nooooooowwwww! ☹"

"Distract yourself."

"Can't even fuck you! ☹", 'Oh am I a distraction' Grant thought.

"It's only one week's babes! xxxx"

His phone buzzed. She had then sent a picture of her lap. Her hand resting on her knee with an unlit Pall Mall wedged between her fingers.

"Put it away babes and do something else! xxx"

His crotch started to throb in his jeans at the thought of her desperation for nicotine. Her building anticipation of finally stepping off the train and lighting her first cigarette in three hours. She must have felt like a caged animal. Rachel currently stuck in her seat, trying to understand and deal with the obvious to everyone that knew her, but for herself the unexplained tetchiness and grumpiness that would be growing. Along with the uncomfortable feeling in her own skin, the inability to sit still, to settle and focus on her book or script. He could visualize her practically spinning in the train chair trying to deal with her undeniable and now rather uncomfortable need to smoke.

Grant knew her foot would be uncontrollably tapping along. Her sitting there full well knowing that the solution is right there in her hand. Lighting a cigarette will solve all the angst. Knowing that after smoking several cigarettes one after another will fix everything and make it all better. Make her feel as if she was on top of the world. But against all of that, unfortunately for the next forty-five minutes or she cannot do it. She had to sit there and like a good girl. Tough it out.

Grant dragged the washing basket down the stairs and the loaded the washing machine. It was a useful thing for him to do. He needed clean clothes for next week. Rachel showed no signs of playing wife and doing it for him. He now had to do two sets of washing.

With a roll of his eyes, ge went back up and retrieved Penny's ashtray from the bedside table and knocked out the contents in the bin. He loaded the dishwasher, something that Rachel seemed incapable of remembering to do. He also put in her wiped cleaned glass ashtrays. Again, useful thing to have clean for a week. As he did not expect anyone would be using them.

With the dishwasher and washing machine running. He did something he had not done in ages. He went upstairs, dug out his running shorts and top. Grant got to the bottom of the stairs and his phone beeped again.

"Yay Imogen not mom is picking me up. I can smoke sooner yayayayay. Pheeeeeeeeeew xxxxx"

"Have fun! Enjoy that smoke! Xxx"

"10 minutes and I will be...I like REALLY, REALLY, REALLY need a cigarette!!!!! xxxx"

He smiled as he put his phone in the pocket, along with the house keys and shut the door as he started to laboriously slowly jog along the road.

***

Rachel hurriedly stepped off the train, cigarette between her lips, lighter in her hand. She had to wait another 30 seconds before lighting it. As she found Imogen on the platform and gave her a big bear hug. Once her arms were retrieved swiftly lit the first of many cigarettes that evening. She had practically finished that first one before she had even reached the car. She had used it however chain lit the next cigarette whilst sitting in the passenger seat, flicking the spent butt out the window waiting for Imogen to light her own cigarette before they drove off.

Act 1 Scene 4

Grant may have gone a little mad over the week stocking the house with cigarettes and Easter eggs. Buying Rachel cigarettes had become routine. Even if she was not in the house to smoke them. At least there were now plenty in stock.

He made sure there was several cartons of both Virginia Slims and Pall Malls in the kitchen cupboard. He knew she would be happy with him to find them there.

But as a joke he hid them behind several large easter eggs. Just to cause her to a miniscule of panic and teasing frustration on the Sunday morning when she got back. He knew that she would migrate there to get her brand-new pack for the day. Having smoked a couple in bed, she would soon need more.

The WhatsApp picture messages had flew in thick and fast on the Saturday night she had gone away. There were lots of selfies of her and Imogen smoking. Rachel clearly had a good night out. She was smiling and happy.

Grant correctly guessed that night she overcompensated for not smoking earlier in the day whilst out drinking. Taking full advantage of the social event.

He let her be on the Sunday morning knowing she would be horribly hungover and incredibly grouchy around her parents. She would be lying there trying to come up with an excuse to keep popping outside every hour. He had to chuckle just at the thought of it.

With Grant being busy at work, the week flew bye. He could stay late and get stuff done, without feeling guilty of not being home and seeing and having smoke-based fun with Rachel. It had been one of his most productive weeks at work in ages.

The quietness of the house and evenings meant he missed is new life with Rachel. But was pleased for that week to have a little bit of sanctuary. Slightly less drama in the house. He did tend to find everything was an excitable performance with Rachel.

However, on Monday evening even with her away, remotely he was still able to be wrapped up in her little dramas. Rachel had called him to explain that she had "come out" to her parents as a proper smoker. She could not hide it any longer. She could not keep running to Imogen's to smoke.

Predictably they were disappointed but understood that she was now hanging around those actor types. Who all smoke.

"I hope you told them about your exciting audition?" Doug had tried to change the topic slightly.

"Yeah, I am not expecting much." She replied downcast.

"Oh, come on, be positive Rachel, you would have nailed it. I thought I had a posh Georgian woman in the house for the last two weeks?"

"Ha, bloody Ha! I Love you, Grant!"

"Love you too!"

"I can't wait to back with you!" Rachel stated before pulling on her cigarette.

"Looking forward to it too. Where are you now?"

Rachel laughed "On the back porch of my parent's house, with a coat, scarf, and wooly hat. Smoking outside is cold in April." Grant could picture her all snuggled up as she does to try and stay warm.

"Rach babes, that is something you are going to have to get used to in life."

There was a loud sighed exhale "I know...I have to suffer for my art. They won't let me smoke anywhere indoors!"

"It's their house!"

"I know." She grizzled, there was a noticeable pop as she had removed the cigarette from her lips. "I prefer yours!"

"That's good but have fun!" Grant chuckled.

"I will tomorrow I have got to help my dad empty his garage of rubbish."

"Oh, now that will be fun. You can do mine when your back!"

"Piss off!" Rachel laughed.

"Have fun and I will speak tomorrow."

For the next few days at about eight, obviously after eating with her parents Rachel sloped out on the back porch, lit her cigarette, and then rang Grant. For the next thirty minutes they spoke as she hurriedly rushed several cigarettes. To fill the time, she would in minute detail explain her last 24 hours who she had seen and spoken to. It did not help Grant that he had no idea of the cast of people she was explaining in detail, but he made appreciative noises. Rachel was desperately trying to prolong her time both with Grant on the phone, but more importantly her crucial time with her cigarettes.

The calls at eight, meant Grant could get home from work, go for a run and then be in position on the sofa for the call. He got his fresh air and his endorphins going.

On the final night of her visit home, she went back out with Imogen. She apologized for not ringing, but she was 'out-out'. Grant really did not mind he could easily wait for the detailed 24-hour update. She would be back tomorrow. They agreed by text that he would pick her up from the train station.

The being out meant that at eight thirty the WhatsApp messages again started appearing on Grant's phone with pictures of her all done up nicely with the equally pretty Imogen outside bars smoking and continued regularly popping up on his phone for the rest of the evening.

Grant had to chuckle because she must have taken a picture of herself with every single cigarette that night.

That morning he did wake up to a slightly blurred selfie that she had taken at three thirty of Rachel completely naked in front of a bedroom mirror before going to bed. Rather than a cigarette, she was attempting to teasingly suck on two of her fingers. Grant could easily imagine the juicy moist location that those two wet fingers went immediately that she dropped her phone after the picture was taken.

The text that went with the message said, "Miss love you xxx". He enjoyed waking up that morning whilst looking at that photo, and the others from the night before. She was utterly divine and gorgeous. She was his.

Act 1 Scene 5

A very grouchy hungover Rachel got off the train early Saturday afternoon. Her dad had kindly dropped her at the train station in a very drowsy even still drunk state. She had slept all the way down, the guard had to wake her, so she did not miss her stop. They briefly hugged, she reeked of a night out. There was no passionate return kiss.

She stood there the grey hood of her hoody up covering most of her face, dragging her bag along the platform. Grant could not help but feel sorry for her. He was slightly disappointed that after hugging she did not even want to kiss him.

"Thought you would be excited to be back to see me?" Grant cautiously asked as he opened his truck door.

"I am." She growled. "Just did not get any sleep." She croaked. Her throat clearly coarse from a night of chatting, singing, dancing and of course too many cigarettes.

"There are no plans for today." Grant announced.

"Good." Rachel screwed her face up as she brought her hand to her mouth and coughed loudly, grimaced then swallowed. She then tugged her rim of her hoody further over her head trying to hide herself away from everything before putting her seat belt on.

"No cigarette yet, I would have thought you would be gasping?" Grant enquired as he drove along, "It was a long journey?" She asked as Rachel was tucked up practically in a ball on the passenger side seat.

The bloodshot eyes of Rachel glared back at Grant. "No. I don't ever want to smoke, ever again." She snapped, "I feel like shit and probably look like shit too!" she grizzled. "My throat, and head hurts. Okay? I can't ever face smoking, ever again." She grizzled then coughed and tried to burry herself deep into the chair.

"Oh, okay, babe, it's probably good to have a break every now and again.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, my dad said the same..." She glared at Grant as if comparing the two older males in her life. She sniffed hard then coughed again. "Aghhh, I hate my throat!" She whined and whimpered as her voice changed pitch.

"Love you too. Shall I see if they sell a new throat at the corner shop?" Grant tried to lighten the mood.

Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head and affectionately punched him on the arm. "Love you as well!" She halfheartedly smiled.

"I've got Strepsils and Lemsips at home somewhere. I am sure they will help?"

Rachel nodded, sniffed loudly, gently coughed as she shuffled herself further into the car chair trying to hide as much as possible.

***

By five o'clock smoke was finally rising from a cigarette between Rachel's fingers. She had spent the afternoon laying out prostrate on the sofa under a blanket watching television. Having drunk a mug of hot lemon and then half an hour sucking on several Locketts and Strepsils they had apparently softened the 'sharp prongy hedgehog spikes' that she complained were residing on her throat. So, between a couple of further coughs she could finally have the confidence to deal with her seriously overdue nicotine deficiency. That was begging to be delt with. She knew that it just could not wait any longer.

With smoke now flowing in and out of her lungs, slowly like a flower coming into bloom, she came to life as the afternoon rolled into early evening. Rachel gently became more and more alive. The hoody hood had come down, revealing her messy very much still bed head like hair. Neither of them cared. But she slowly became more awake. She sat there and calmly and slowly working her way through her pack of Virginia Slims. There was no rush, sitting there watching rubbish television, getting herself to feel back to normal. There was nothing sexy about her smoking. It was functional. After a morning of abstinence. She now needed to smoke. She was getting vast quantities of smoke into her desperate lungs.

To Grant she still looked stunning. She had changed position so that she was all curled up on the sofa. He admired her cute defensive ball she could get herself into. As such he stayed out of her way on his work laptop messing about with emails on the kitchen table. Just letting her come round. He knew well enough over the years that there was no point poking a grizzly nicotine deficient bear.

At dinner time with a big grin she announced, "I've invited Imogen to stay with us over a weekend." She stated immediately after slurping and finishing up the last of her warmed up tinned pea green soup. They both agreed something soft for tea was probably best on her throat that evening.

"Oh right, when?" Grant asked surprised by this movement coming in like a bit of twist on the day.

"Next weekend. Before she goes back to college too." She grinned.

"Oh, right, I am guessing you will be well enough to go out drinking again by then?" Grant chuckled.

"Yeah, I really hope so!" Rachel replied loudly sniffing again.

"Well, in that case I better get the spare bedroom sorted then." Grant laughed.

Rachel's face warmed as she smiled. "Thank you so much Grant you are truly amazing guy!" It was her first smile of the day.

"Well..." Grant blushed.

"I knew you would be okay with it." She nodded enthusiastically as she pulled another filter from her Virginia Slims pack, tapped it on the table and placed it between her lips.

***

The Sunday morning started with a prolonged hacking cough and loud groan from Rachel that instantly woke Grant up. She instantly grizzled as she sat up in bed discarding the duvet. Without thinking her first reaction meant that she reached for her pack of cigarettes. Moaning that she was so getting a bad cold from going out at the weekend with Imogen. Grant just rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he watched her cheeks collapse in on themselves as she heaved the first of many lungsful of smoke into her body. He smiled as the first smoke of the day billowed out of her mouth.

He was just relieved that she was clearly feeling well enough that morning to smoke. It was strange having picked her up seeing her extremely grumpy and not herself. It was now unusual that her first cigarette of the day was not lit until late afternoon. The click of lighter going at eight in the morning its slightly more 'normal'.

They got up and excitedly and dutifully shared their easter eggs. Grant of course had bought the largest chocolate egg he could find and hidden it on his side of the wardrobe. As it was Easter and his treat, he also made up some chocolate covered crepes for breakfast.

When Rachel looked in, then crunched her empty cigarette pack with initial disappointment, she looked to the cupboard as smiled. It was there she found all the small Easter eggs that Grant had bought in the corner shop when stocking up.